Year One

I wrote this in science class, and I only really like it because...you'll just have to count the words and see for yourself?

I can see her on the sound, blue eyes staring at the ground pouring icy wizened tears, products of fifteen long years. Dragged beneath the broken ties of fourteen years that whisper lies, empty words stifled her soul, filling up that preteen hole and overflowing decent ends; overwhelming former friends, the little pool of darkness grew, drowning everything she knew, including her broken heart. It was dead, would not restart, dwindling down on hate's cyclone, resolving itself alone, cradling the jagged scars left by Fate's cruelest jail bars. Her reflection lying there wonders whether she should care; whether she should try again to brave that futile empty pen. She finally sees that it is done: Happy days stayed in year one.

Subscribe

Get Teen Ink’s 48-page monthly print edition. Written by teens since 1989.